The Outsiders Aesthetic Novels & Stories

I looked at her directly. No blinking. No sugarcoating. “Yeah,” I said. “I despise him.” And I meant it. With every molecule in my being. “Oh... okay...” She trailed off, blinking like she hadn't expected such a direct answer. Then, because Quinn had the attention span of a fruit fly and the filter of a toddler, she said, “But everyone here is, like, sculpted. You know, like Calvin Klein. Except Hudson. He looks like a traditional one. Like the ones from those perfume ads with fog and horses and mysterious stares.”

Each of them was handsome in a completely different way, yet all of them carried the kind of presence that made people notice them whether they wanted to or not. Hades was the one people noticed first. He always was. Standing beside me in his dark clothes, his tall frame moved with the kind of lazy confidence that made it impossible not to look at him. Sometimes I genuinely wondered if the devil himself had sculpted him just to confuse the world with something so dangerously beautiful. His features were almost too perfect, the kind of beauty that felt slightly unreal, as if he had stepped straight out of some dark fantasy novel. But it was not just his face.

“Under those corporate parameters, are there specific stylistic vectors your tongue wants my hand to steer his choices toward?” I seized the tactical opening instantly. “Yes. Absolute confirmation. Nothing that translates to a low-tier mate trap. Zero threads that imply a brainless bimbo aesthetic. My image requires an architecture that registers as highly intelligent, yet entirely sharp. Dominant. Historic. Symmetrical cleavage represents a viable asset, but nothing that evokes the visual data of a primitive breeding den pin-up.” “The metrics are logged. My hands will manipulate what we can behind the veil.”

Get it together and just ask. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "Are you alright, miss?" The deep voice of the young handsome boy rung through my mind. Holy Jesus Christ. He's fine. Damn fine. He had brownish short hair, cut to the haid, and hazel eyes. He was built like a rugby player and his face was shaped like a god send angel. What is it with all those good looking people here? I haven't seen one ugly bitch and I feel so out of place. I need ugly people around me, Ok. It makes me seem beautiful.

The skirt itself was something I’d personally find unflattering, but when tucked into the belt around my waist, it showed off my long legs and thick thighs. “If people are going to stare at you like you’re some type of villainous murder, then you might as well act like one. Make them fear you, let them scare themselves into not fucking with you.” Olive retorted. “You look hot as fuck, and half of the old, drunk creeps in there aren’t going to care about a single mark on your body.”

They were a picture of David and Goliath sharing a morning meal at the table, sitting down. Just like Izzy would call him, Owen was similar to a bugbear or an Ogre. He is a big man who stands about a few inches more than two hundred centimeters with a muscle-filled physique, a clean-cut hairstyle, and he would always wear a white shirt, with or without sleeves and jeans pants. He would look neat even with dirt from work stuck or splashed in his clothes or his body. But he always looks brooding. To Izzy, he is scary and unapproachable, and if only she had other choices, Izzy was never going to bother him. Alas, her last way to escape was her window to his.

A shiver ran down my spine as our eyes met, the air between us charged with an almost magnetic tension. Haven's beauty was mesmerizing, her dark outfit perfectly complementing her porcelain skin and fiery mane. The high-waisted shorts hugged her curves, while the crop top hoodie showcased her toned midriff. The skeleton hand flipping me the bird on the front of the hoodie added a touch of edgy rebellion. Her hair cascaded down her back in luscious waves, reaching all the way to her hips, just as it had during our previous encounter. The dark makeup accentuated her striking features, making her eyes seem even more piercing and intense. A fitting outfit, I thought.

Ethan stood tall, his immaculate blue suit hugging his broad shoulders. His dark hair was finely shaped, and his heavy brows complemented his hawk-like gaze, making his presence rather unsettling. One could swear he was a model for some top agency—a sexy but intimidating model. Ethan was built like a Roman or Greek god. He might have been mixed-race or purely white, but his tanned skin suggested either too much sun or perhaps frequent spa visits. Either way, it achieved impressive results, making him appear anything but pale.

Then here, he was standing in the doorway. His demeanor was filled with anger as he glared at me. Alex was the kind of guy that girls looked at and drooled over while he grinned at them. He was beyond sexy in a bad boy kind of way. His dirty blonde hair sat messed up on the top of perfect face with a sculpted jaw and mesmerizing green eyes. Tattoos lined his hands, courtesy of my work which only made him more good looking. But as l stood and stared at him right mow, l knew who he was underneath, all those handsome features were useless. He was the most ugliest person on the planet.

His face was full of contentment compared to her miserable self and paler look. His current situation was really good and she felt a little sad for a while. On the other hand, Zane sized up Arika's appearance before his eyes at a close range as he observed her bright inky black eyes, white teeth, brown skin with dark night-like thick hair, a small face with a paler look. If Zane faced Arika he felt like her appearance was cold like winter and when he faced Insane it was like a gentle summer. Insane always appeared like a sun who was gentle and the wind was soft. It seemed that flowers were blooming around her but the irony was that all flowers were dark, black, and sinful.